


In Hindsight

by MajorMojo



Series: All things Considered [2]
Category: Carmen Sandiego (Cartoon 2019)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-12 12:01:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28510095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MajorMojo/pseuds/MajorMojo
Summary: This story is an add-on to my other work "All things considered." Jean-Paul POV (point of view)Part of the "flashback" story is from "All Things Considered" but continues to from where it was left off.There are some references from the book "Who in the World is Carmen Sandiego".
Relationships: Le Chèvre | Jean Paul/El Topo | Antonio
Series: All things Considered [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2088621
Comments: 8
Kudos: 18





	1. Chapter 1

~~~~  
6 months earlier, Scotland Vile headquarters.  
~~~~

It started with denial.

The Faculty wouldn’t do it and it was just a cruel rumor. Something that was held over their heads to keep them in line. Antonio was worth more to Vile than the new rift rafts they were dredging up from who knows where. Hell, El Topo was more capable than some of the older VILE agents. But something about the uneasy glances in his directions had him worried. Before he could process it Sheena was there dragging Jean away from the others to a secluded part of the barracks.

That's when anger began to set in.

Sheena had brought him to her room right before he lashed out. She’d locked them together in that room making sure they couldn’t get out. At the time he switched between wanting to rip apart the facility or beg for leniency but Sheena stood strong and was able to keep him locked up with her. Looking back at it he knew that she wasn’t doing it maliciously but at the time he only saw red. She was the reason Jean couldn’t race to Antonio’s side and plead his case. He couldn’t remember everything he said in that moment of anger but he could tell that he’d hurt her. Sheena didn’t back down from her stance even when threatened.

That's when Jean went straight into bargaining. If she let him out he could change their mind. Surely the faculty were making a mistake and could be persuaded. Jean begged and offered Sheena anything she wanted no matter what. If she asked he’d do it. Just when he thought he’d convinced her she made a face of pure absolute pity. The look was foreign and showed a vulnerability he hadn't seen before. Leaning against the door she looked away from him.

Seizing his moment Jean lunged attempting to grab the key from her, but his hands were shaking and his moment was over. Jean fumbled and Sheena was able to take control again. The scuffle was quick but still intense, ending with bruises and scratch marks. How she didn’t break a nail outside of her VILE issues uniform he wouldn’t know. Perhaps it was because she wasn’t going all out. Her movements were almost passive as she made a grab for his arm, wrenching his body to the ground so hard his teeth chattered. With the wind knocked out of him she dove to hold him in place. Jean wasn’t in the right state of mind and was pinned to the ground on his stomach, arms twisted in a way that left no room for retaliation.

There was nothing but silence for what felt like ages but as suddenly as it started Sheena let him go. Jean had strategized a new way to get the key when she dropped a bombshell.

“He’s already gone.” There wasn't a hint of deception in her voice but he wasn't worried about her lying. Jean couldn't believe that she had kept this from him but his anger was being overwhelmed by the confession.

“What do you mean?” Jean grabbed her by the shoulders trying to make her look into his eyes. If this was a distraction so the faculty could-

“I saw him.” Jeans train of thought stopped. All he could imagine was Sheena standing at attention with arms crossed as they strapped Antonio down. Did she even try to help their friend?

“WHY DIDN'T YOU STOP THEM!” Jean gripped her shoulders tightly slamming her against the door. She reciprocated with a solid kick in his chest, throwing him back into one of her shelves, sending miscellaneous trinkets scattering to the floor.

“I DIDN'T KNOW!” Sheena’s face was twisted into rage at the accusation but then fell to a solemn expression. “I wasn't there when it happened. He was being loaded onto the transport rig. He’d already had his mind wiped when I saw him. That's when I came to find you.” Jean didn't want to believe what he was hearing.

Antonio was gone. Everything that made him El Topo had been stripped away and he was already being shipped back to Spain. Jean felt a complete rush of adrenaline trying to frantically figure out a plan or a scenario where he could stop this nightmare. His chest felt tight and he thought he might vomit. He didn't cry though, he wouldn't let himself fall that deep.

Sheena had tried to reason with him. She’d stopped him from making a scene in front of others and was coaching him on what to do but all the energy was sucked out of him.

“Get out.” Jean was trembling but he couldn't tell if it was anger or distress. He sat down worried that his legs would give out with how much they were shaking. Sheena made an attempt at reassuring him but Jean just couldn’t take it. “GET OUT!”

Looking back at it Jean had no right to kick Sheena out of her own dorm but he wanted to be alone in that moment. She left without another word, glancing back at him only once. There on her face was that foreign look of pity before she closed the door. Jean spent the time trying to put his composure back together. Like Hell he’d let anyone see him as he fell apart. He hadn't cried since he was a child and he wouldn't let himself break down now. Anxious pacing and deep breaths helped bring him back to a semi-passive state, but his thoughts remained. Jean hadn't been prepared for a situation like this. Deep down he knew it was a possibility but he could never prepare himself for the real thing. All he wanted to do was be alone in his own space away from prying eyes.

Jean finally opened the door and looked out into the hallway, but Sheena was nowhere to be seen. If he was to head to his room he may as well do it now before anyone came by.

It felt unreal. Something that had once felt so permanent and true was gone.

So many emotions had taken hold of him in such a short amount of time. It was like he was feeling everything but he was also numb. Every breath he took left him feeling like he was choking. Jean couldn’t force himself to pay attention as he made his way down the halls to his shared room. The door wasn't locked and panic pushed it way to the forefront of his mind.

Everything of Antonio’s was gone. Jean did a double take but sure enough the Cleaners had removed all of Antonio’s belongings leaving nothing but the cot and a fresh set of sheets. Jean opened the closet checking to see if anything had been overlooked but nothing was there, not even the hangers. Just a vacant spot left behind.

With Antonio decommissioned there was no reason for VILE to keep his stuff. If Jean remembered correctly that meant they were going to get rid of the evidence and there was only one place that could do that here. They couldn't have done this too long ago and he hoped that he wasn't too late.

Jean didn't even think as he took off down the corridor. The lighting of the brick walls had an eerie green tone that became overwhelming. There didn't seem to be anyone out and about at this time as Jean slipped unseen but the echoing of his own footsteps put him on edge. Most agents were away on missions or in other hideouts but a good chunk somewhere in the base. But the people he feared most had to be the Cleaners. Jean still made sure to approach the room with caution, counting himself lucky that he hadn't run into anyone. What he was doing was reckless and he truly wouldn't have any excuse for himself if caught. The rush he felt at the time was nearly identical to that he’d felt on high stake missions.

The room was isolated and dimly lit but Jean knew he was in the right place. Lined across the wall were old laundry carts that the cleaners used to transport everything to be disposed of. The ceiling was scattered with rusted chains and piping that looked as though they'd fall apart at the slightest touch. Walking past the carts he noticed they had already been empty. There was no other place they would have moved it except...

Taking in a deep breath Jean approached the incinerator. He cautiously placed his hand close to the door feeling a rush of relief that it was still cold. Shaky hands managed to firmly grasp the hatch wrenching it open. The scent of soot filled the room and he had to fight not to cough at the bitter intrusion. Stepping closer for a better look Jean strained his eyes trying to make out what was inside.

For the first time sense this nightmare started he felt a rush of relief. Antonio’s stuff was scattered on top of the piles of trash unscarred from the flames. He didn't even care about the soot getting on his clothes or the rotten smell of sulfur. Putting his arm into the furnace he started routing around to get a better look. Most of it were Antonio’s sketches of tunnels he’d make before missions and books leftover from when they were students. Pushing them aside Jean went deeper until he saw Antonio’s sheets and clothes.

Jean’s hands were trembling, he wanted nothing more than to take all of Antonio’s things and put them back where they belonged, but he knew better. Antonio’s stuff was removed due to protocol. If the Cleaners found it missing they would report it. Whatever the Faculty ordered would be done, but if no one knew then no one would go looking. That was what Jean hoped anyway. With a heavy heart Jean resigned himself to taking only a few mementos. Just something to prove that Antonio was once there.

Admittedly Antonio never really kept many personal things. He had always been one to enjoy things when he had it and openly lived in the moment. If he was being honest, Jean had found it strange how Antonio could be so chipper even after failing a mission but now he was thankful for those moments. Jean flipped over some books and pushed aside some clothing before his eyes were drawn to something. A keychain Jean had found for him on their first solo mission and a necklace he’d given him for his birthday. Both of these items had been on El Topo’s person when he last saw him.

Anger was building up in him but he had to push on. That's when his hand brushed against something hard at the bottom. It took a moment to make sense of what he was holding but then it clicked. One of Antonio’s tunneling gauntlets was in his hand and with some more digging he was able to pull out the other.

He clung to them like a lifeline. They were cold but still had rubble wedged in the joints from their last mission. His hand brushed away the soot from its short time in the incinerator. He was so close to losing something so precious and they had just thrown them away. Anger weld up inside of him at the thought of them just tossing them out like trash.

For the first time he fully understood what it meant to be VILE.

VILE agents were nothing more than a commodity. Something that could be thrown away and replaced at will. No matter who you were or what successes you had, they could throw you out without batting an eye. He came face to face of what could and would happen to anyone who crossed the line earlier with Crackle, but it seemed like something that only happened with others. Now El Topo was gone and Jean could be next. If he was caught right now would they put him on probation or take away his memories as well. The items in his hands held precious memories of his past that no one besides Jean would understand. Every scrape and dent in the gloves told a story, even the worn out keychain was present during some of their greatest capers together. If Jean-Paul lost his memories then El Topo would truly be lost and these things would be meaningless.

The sound of footsteps snatched his attention away from his scavenging. Jean scrambled away behind the laundry carts leaving the iron door half open. He would have felt safer from a higher vantage point but didn't have the time. He cursed at his predicament, had he been on a mission he would have scouted out an escape route. Instead he had to settle with staying put and waiting it out. It was far from ideal and left him vulnerable, but if he stayed put they shouldn't notice.

The cleaners never seemed more menacing than in that moment. His mind was running a mile a minute wondering if the Cleaners would notice something off. His heart was pounding so hard he worried that they would hear and know someone was there. Jean wasn't going to take the chance of peeking around the corner but strained his ears trying to make out the sounds around him. The squeaky wheel of one of the old laundry carts was approaching the incinerator. The iron door was opened all the way with a loud groan that reverberated across the whole room. He instinctively clutched tighter to his treasures but fumbled the keychain.

*clink*

All sound stopped for a moment and Jean could imagine the cleaners looking in his direction.

He had to think fast as the sounds of footsteps approached closer and closer. He wedged himself as far back behind the carts as possible. This was it, he’d made a gamble and lost. His body went cold in anticipation of his impending doom.

Something scrambled away from the corner Jean had wedged himself in. If it wasn't for the fear racking his body he may have jumped away, instead a sizable rat ran out in front of the cleaners. He almost gagged at the sight but held his breath.

“Krysa. I thought we got them all.” The rat scurried over to the other side of the room before letting out a final squeak. The sounds of a mouse trap echoed through the room.

“Well that's convenient.” Jean could just make out Boris picking up the rat by its tail before shuffling back to the incinerator. “Hopefully that is the last. Cobblestone is already hard to sweep without vermin.”

Jean could hear them sliding more things into the furnace. Boris and Vlad spoke of nothing of importance as they closed the door and started up the incinerator. Jean’s mind was divided by his emotions. The feeling of loss and relief filled him. He had lost so much today but he was also relieved that he could save something from the inferno. The crackling pop reminded him of what he had lost that day. All of Antonio's books and sketches, every piece of clothing and his dear friend himself. They weren't coming back and Jean wasn't ready.

The Cleaners didn't stick around for long, ambling away to who knows where as the crackling from the incinerator continued to echo in the room.

For the longest time Jean did nothing, worried that the Cleaners would come back or someone would see him. So much had happened and his mind was running a mile a minute. But the longer he stayed the more he soaked in the smell of smoke and sulfur. The smell was unbearable. Risking a glance Jean peered around the corner of his hiding spot. Satisfied, he’d securely held onto his stolen goods.

The tunneling gauntlets were bulky and would draw unwanted attention if he wasn't careful. There wasn't anything in the room that he could hide them in. He‘d just have to take the chance.

The halls swallowed up the artificial light that had been recently installed. Even with the renovations the lights flickered with every strong gust of wind or clap of thunder. This place was not the tropical paradise they’d grown so accustomed to. It was cold and bitter, a much more accurate representation of VILE.

Jean made sure not to dash to his room. He didn't want to risk catching up to the cleaners or running straight into anyone else. He’d calmed considerably by the time that he’d snuck back to his room. The satisfaction of slipping in and out without notice helped him feel slightly better, but that rush was short lived as he paused outside his room.

Jean-Paul could imagine opening the door to the worried expression on his dear friend's face. Antonio would probably scold him half heartedly before offering his assistance in the future. He would place one of his hands onto his shoulder, telling Jean he was glad he was safe. But the image fell apart when he opened his eyes once more. Jean placed his hand against the door. In that moment it felt like the only thing separating them was just a door, but that was nothing more than a dream. He needed to get out of the hall, every second he spent out there increased his chance of being caught.

The last thing he expected was to see Sheena sitting, waiting for him. He didn't anticipate anyone showing up in his room but he really shouldn't have been surprised. Sheena seemed to want to talk some more now that he’d calm down but her focus was fixated on something else entirely. There wasn’t any way for him to hide what he had and she knew right away what he’d just done. Jean closed the door, wanting the upcoming conversation to only be between the two of them. Perhaps he could bribe her into not telling anyone.

“Did you steal that!” She seemed more shocked than angry. In a way this was a smite against the Faculties policies. Jean didn't want to deal with her now that he’d calm down, but he knew that he wasn't going to be able to evade this.

“We are thieves, don't act like you've never stolen something. Besides if they really wanted to keep it they shouldn't have thrown it in the trash.” No one was going to take away his small victory, not after everything that went wrong that day. Sheena took in a deep breath collecting her composure.

“I…” She stopped mid sentence as she thought over what she wanted to say. “Look I get it. I’m not a snitch but if the Faculty finds out-”

“How would they find out?” Jean cut her off mid sentence. He hadn’t gone down there with a solid plan but he couldn’t just leave them behind. Sheena’s criticism wasn’t welcomed but she still pushed the subject.

“That’s VILE issued tech you dug out of the trash. What if someone goes snooping through your room?” Shenna was almost back to her normal self now that Jean wasn’t having a meltdown.

“Like you are?” Jean was back on the defensive. He knew that it wasn't the smartest course he could've taken but what's done is done.

“Look. Where can you hide something like that?” Jean slipped the necklace on himself and slid the keychain in his pocket. She gave an unimpressed look as she eyed the gauntlets. ”Fine, what about the gloves? Are you gonna try shoving them in mittens or something?” She had a point and Jean hated it. Hiding smaller items was pretty easy but larger ones could be nearly impossible in this place.

“I can hide them in the vent.”

“What is this? Amature hour? This is a hideout full of thieves. That's the first place they check for valuables.” It was true. There wasn’t much he could do about sticky fingered bacemates and he didn’t have the skills or resources to carve out part of the wall. A safe was also out of the question. It wouldn't be more obvious that he was hiding something in a safe. That’s when the idea struck him. It might not be the best but it would deter most people. Jean walked over to his closet as Sheena watched.

“If you lock up your items in a safe here what happens?”

“Uh duh. Someone would crack it open and take what's inside.”

“Yes. They would go straight for the safe, but what if they were hidden inside something worthless to them?” Jean pulled out an old duffle that had seen better days. It was one of the few things that Jean had kept when he first joined VILE.

“That's neat and all but if someone tries to lift that they’re going to know there's something inside.” She was speaking the truth but Jean wished she’d give him some slack.

“Fine I get it, but it's all I've got!” He tossed the bag onto his bed, setting the gauntlets next to it. This had been the worst day of his life and Sheena seemed to just rub salt in the wound.

“Look your secrets safe with me but if you're caught don't go pointing fingers.” Jean didn’t make a move to insert himself into the conversation again. Sheena knew that she’d overstayed her welcome but didn’t seem willing to leave. She mumbled something under her breath but it didn’t sound rude or condescending. Jean’s interest peaked back up. Her ice blue eyes met his, but she didn’t repeat herself. “Look, you should get some sleep. I’ll let you know if I think of something.”

“Fine.” Jean huffed, finally getting the alone time he desperately sought out. Just before she left she turned back to him.

“A word of advice, learn how to hide your emotions better. I don't want what happened to them happening to you.” And just like that she slipped back in the hall.

Jean took in Sheena’s words. It had only been a few hours since he found out and now she wanted him to get over it. He didn’t ask for or need her help.

Jean would solve this issue on his own.

His eyes roamed over the empty half of his dorm. Reaching out a hand he grasped one of El Topo’s tunneling gloves. He studied every scrape and dent from all of their past missions. Antonio’s hands were so much bigger than his own and his strength was unmatched. Paired with the gauntlets he was fully capable of crushing through concrete and shredding most metals. El Topo wasn’t one to brag, always acting humble and genuinely proud of others' accomplishments.

When Jean first met Antonio he wasn’t sure what to think of him. He hadn’t expected just how much they’d be drawn to each other. From their strengths to their weaknesses everything they did fell in place with the other’s. They became a nearly inseparable duo. Their teamwork never failed until their reunion with their ex-classmate and even then El Topo had a way of cheering him up at the end of the day.

Now he was gone and there was no bright side, reassurance, or pep talks about next time. Jean placed the gauntlets in the bag taking one more glance as he zipped it closed. The bag looked unassuming and would blend right into the closet space he had pulled it from.  
He should get some sleep.

This was the first time in quite a while that he’d sleep without Antonio in the room. It felt uncomfortable being confined to the room alone. He never realized just how tense he became without Antonio at his side. The feeling of unease stuck with him. Jean hadn’t felt unsafe when he was at VILE before so this came as a bit of a surprise.

Locking the door to his room felt as effective as a sign saying “keep out”. If someone wanted to come in they could find a way but Jean wasn't going to make it easy for them.

Going over to his desk Jean dragged his chair to the door, wedging it under securely. Only when satisfied did he bother to lay down. He hated this helpless feeling.


	2. Chapter 2

It took everything in Jean-Paul just to get himself ready for the day. Everything just felt so off. 

One moment Antonio was there, the next he was nothing more than a memory. There were times where Jean would imagine what he could've done differently, but those thoughts only reopened the wound. It would still happen on occasion but he learned to live with it.

The strange thing about grief was that it got worse before it got better. Time didn't heal the way Jean thought it would, instead it cemented the fact that he was gone. Together Antonio and Jean-Paul were almost unstoppable, besides their few run-ins with Carmen and her lackeys. Now it was just him alone with nothing more than a few trinkets.

Well, Jean wasn’t completely alone.

Time didn’t stop without Antonio and the Faculty wasted no time teaming him up with other operatives. Mission after mission, sent out with familiar and unfamiliar faces. Jean was even sent back out on a mission the day after the incident. It wasn't his first mission without Antonio but it was the first knowing that he wouldn't be there to greet him when it was over. He couldn't even feel happy that the missions went off without a hitch.

Even though his heart wasn't in his work he was still as quick and efficient as ever. He preferred to work alone rather than being dragged down by the incompetence of others and he wasn't afraid to verbally shoot down any harebrained scheme they were trying to push. It wasn't a surprise that so many of their operations failed when there were so many unnecessary steps in their plans. Jean knew that he’d pushed some of the buttons of the agents he worked with, but the faculty couldn't care less.

The faculty didn't care about the squabbles between members, they were too busy trying to salvage hideouts and stop the draining of their funds, courtesy of his ex-classmate and ACME. 

Many of the agents stationed at other hideouts were forced to return to the Scotland headquarters when their bunkers were disbanded, leading to clashes between new and old agents. Personalities clashed and many were stranded at hotels under aliases. Everyday brought new struggles and Jean could feel the place becoming more and more chaotic. New and old operatives butting heads over personalities, gossip, and an overall lack of respect. Jean had even clashed with some of the newer operatives. 

That's where Jean was now. It had barely been two months since he put himself back together again. He’d just returned to the base and picked up his next mission report when he was approached by some of the more recent graduates. Jean sat back and watched as they went from table to table, getting a rise out of terrorizing other operatives. They’d approached Jean attempting to get a rise out of him as well, but he’d gotten used to ignoring others and made sure to keep them away from his mission reports. His actions did little to deter them, instead it seemed to have the opposite effect. Perhaps they all had a screw loose or misinterpreted his silence as friendly compliance. Either way Jean found them all taking perch too close for comfort.

For the most part they were ignored and ended up just sitting around him, belittling others who happened to walk by. Jean was able to effortlessly ignore them as he filled out his post mission report until a familiar name caught his attention. He just caught the tail end of a passive joke at the expense of Antonio and Gram. They laughed as Jean grit his teeth. He managed to keep his cool as he recited what had been told to him once. It seemed so long ago but he was able to clearly remember Dr.Bellum’s warning.

“If you slip up on the job, you’ll be next.” His tone of voice wasn't threatening but it was enough to bring a chill to the room. 

That seemed to thoroughly spook them and they scurried off to harass another group of agents. Just as expected, they were all bark and no bite. Jean wondered if there was any way that he could convince them to mess with Paperstar but figured that karma would reach them soon enough. When it came to Jean respect was earned but the new bloods didn’t seem to grasp that concept. He’d managed to get rid of the pests but he still felt on edge. They had joked about the mind wiper so casually, even though the thought of it sent him reeling. 

There he was, sat alone staring blankly at his mission reports. Eyes roamed over the pages over and over again but his mind failed to take in the information. With a defeated sigh Jean packed up, intending to hide away in his room, just as he did most days. 

As he wandered down the hall he thought back on all the things that had changed over the past weeks. He felt lucky that no one noticed his shift in personality, although he’d always had a bit of an attitude to begin with. He recalled how obvious the shift had been when another of his ex-teammates hit rock bottom. 

Jean’s mind wandered back to Crackle’s final months in the organization. Even though Gram isolated himself it was still as plain as day to know how he was feeling.

What little personality he had before was left completely void after their heist in Morocco. He continued to become more bitter as time went on. Over time his mission's success rate had dropped and no one wanted to work with him. Even though Crackle became focused entirely on his criminal career he still managed to drop lower on the faculties list. It wasn't until he found out about Carmen Sandiego that things changed. 

The spark that was missing in his eyes came back in full force and he became obsessed with bringing back Blacksheep. 

Crackle had finally been able to convince the Faculty to fund his retrieval mission, much to the surprise of his former teammates. If anyone could convince Blacksheep to come back it would be Gram, but Jean knew better. Carmen and Blacksheep were two different people, but no matter how much they tried to tell him Gram wouldn't listen. In the end he’s set up a trap that backfired spectacularly, ending in his termination. 

Jean wondered if Crackle was sent out to purposely fail or if they truly believed that he could convince her to return. He wouldn't put it past the faculty to do such a thing but he doubted they’d risk exposure over something like that. Regardless, Crackle was used as an example of what happened when an operative failed.

Gram was able to go on without VILE, but not everyone could just go back to the life they once had. VILE had been a way for people to escape their old life and put their skills to use. Going back to what they had before wasn't an option for most, even if they regretted joining.

**

Jean fumbled with his keys. The dimb lighting did little to help but after a bit he was able to click open the old lock. The light flickered to life revealing his room. A thin layer of dust covered the place, leading an observant eye to believe that the room was uninhabited, but he knew better. It was something so small yet so telling. Had someone attempted to sneak in he'd be able to tell from the chalk on the ground.

The idea came to him when he was refilling his climbing chalk before a mission and noticed how the chalk had dusted over most surfaces in the room. At first he was going to clean it up as he had always done before, but then the idea came to mind. If he left the chalk in place, he’d be able to see if anyone went snooping when he was gone. Therefore, before taking off on missions he used his climbing chalk to leave a fine powder layer on the floor. 

The only one who caught onto what he was doing was Sheena but he explained it away as the old ventilation system. She seemed satisfied and that was that.

Jean patted himself on the back for that trick. It was a pain to clean up after every mission but it was worth it just for the extra layer of security. That wasn't the only trick up his sleeve. He’d improved upon his ‘bait and switch’ with the gloves. He brought back a heavy locked box and filled it with whatever “valuables'' he had at the time. It rested in the back corner of the floor in his closet, only being half heartedly covered up. The box wasn't meant to stay hidden but to draw an attentive eye away from the real treasure he’d hidden away in an unassuming duffle stuffed full of his workout clothes. 

It wasn’t ideal but with him sporadically taking off on missions it was the safest option. He’d never forgive himself if he lost them when out on a mission.

Jean pulled out the duffle to reassure himself that the gloves were still there. He let out a sigh as he saw the gloves still tucked safely in the bottom of his bag. With a heavy heart he tucked the bag back into the closet. He couldn't risk leaving them out accidentally. All it would take was the wrong person finding out and Jean could kiss his VILE career goodbye.

The thought of losing his job wasn't what worried him. He’d lose his memories. Most of his memories throughout his time at VILE meant nothing to him, but the ones of Antonio were what kept him going. He couldn’t have one without the other and he knew that. 

VILE was a vice and everyone knew better than to test the limits. Once you were in you were in for life or so it seemed. Jean never questioned how agents could leave VILE until recently, but never out loud. Perhaps he was worried about the answer. It's not like VILE would give him a non disclosure agreement and leave him on his merry way. VILE still offered him everything he ever dreamed and more, but now he felt like something was missing and nothing he did could fill that void. It sounded cliché but he never understood just how true it could be. 

Besides he still had some good things going for him. Sheena made it a point to hang out and talk whenever they had free time, even if Jean was done with people most days. His mission success rate was improving, but his missions were also lower risk. 

Even as he stared up at the ceiling he couldn't get his mind to slow down. He wanted out of this place but the risks were too high. Maybe he’d feel differently when more time had passed. 

Jean sigh glanced back at the paperwork he discarded on the desk. He had to finish up his mission reports.

~~~

It had been around three months since Antonio was decommissioned. In that time Jean had built up his defenses and kept nearly everyone at bay.

Surprisingly, Sheena was Jean’s saving grace and was possibly the only thing left from VILE he didn't despise. She greeted him when he came back from most of his missions when schedules allowed. If he didn't go out to meet up with her then she’d drag him out of his room to socialize. It may not have been what he wanted, but the change was definitely needed. 

Shenna and Jean worked well together and succeeded a majority of the time when paired together. The Faculty mostly cared about success rates and Jean’s were still some of the best. 

Much to Jean’s disdain he found himself regularly paired with the slithery creaton, Neal the Eel. The name fit as he would slither under your skin and get on every last nerve. It was hard to say if Neal was intentionally being obnoxious or if it was an unconscious quirk. Either way he was going to be driven to the brink of insanity. Neal didn’t work well with others but that was because others couldn’t stand being around him. 

On their last three missions Jean had cut the estimated heist time in half just to escape being stuck with him longer than necessary. It was reckless but the Faculty was elated at the skyrocketing success rate. Jean should've dragged the mission out so the faculty would stop teaming them up, but hindsight was 50/50 and Jean had to face the unfortunate consequences.

~~~


	3. Chapter 3

It’d been the same week after week of missions and Jean was finally getting used to it. He wasn’t over what had happened but he could at the very least hold it off until he was back in the privacy of his room. Sheena failed to drag him away after he returned giving him ample time to relax in the privacy of his room. It wasn’t until he came back dead tired to one of the worst greetings he’d ever received. 

“Hello, Roomie. Lovely weather we’re having.” Neal was set up in Antonio’s old spot. Jean hadn’t moved from the doorway before a flood of insults left his tongue. Neal didn't seem to understand a single word in his mother tongue but Jean-Paul knew that screaming was universal.

“What do you think you're doing!? GET. OUT.” The absolute nerve sent him from 0 to 100 in only seconds. 

“I’m just taking a break after one killer of a mission.” Neal smirked knowing what Jean meant but refusing to give a straight answer. 

“This isn’t your room. Go slither back under whatever rock you crawled out from.” The smirk of other had Jean’s blood at a boil. This was the last thing Jean needed. 

“Calm your horses. Space is tight. This spot’s been empty for a few months now don’t you think it’s time to move on.” If looks could kill Neal would be dead several times over. 

“You don’t get to just move in here.” 

“Come on. It’s not that bad after all, we’ve been killin’ it on missions. This is just one more step to-“ Jean pulled Neal off the cot before pointing tours the door. 

“GET OUT!”

“Well, you sure do know how to make a great first impression. But really mate, I wouldn't be here if the faculty didn’t move me.” Jean forced himself not to snap at Neal as he processed what he’d said. Neal taking advantage of his momentary hang up, slipped out from his grasp.

“Excuse me? The Faculty would never-“ Jean was cut off by Neal pulling a folded letter from his suit. He was hesitant to take it but eventually swiped it away from Neal. There in official VILE documentation were the words that made his stomach drop. With new operatives joining and a few of the off base hideouts being shut down, Neal was now his new roommate. More curses slipped from his lips as he crumpled the note. 

“Cheer up! Let's give a toast to new beginnings, of a whole new dream team. Climbing and slithering up the corporate ladder.” Neal’s theatrics were unbearable making him want to gag. Jean removed himself out of reach and did his best to ignore the monologue. He’d made his way to the closet, desperate to take his mind off of the slimy creep and his unfortunate predicament, but it took only a moment to switch from annoyance to panic when he saw the chalk on the floor. Clearly in the fine dust was a trail to his closet. There were so many footsteps and sweeps that he couldn't even make it all out. Jean opened the door, immediately spotting the signs of rummaging. Clothes were pushed aside and trinkets moved from their original spot. Most importantly, the unassuming bag that was once placed in the back corner was nowhere in sight. Jean’s eyes swiveled back to Neal. By then he’d sauntered over and into his personal space again. “Like some may say, out with the old and in with the new!” 

Neal barely managed to dodge the swing Jean threw at him. Darting to the door Neal just barely managed to evade the incoming assault. 

“WHERE IS IT?!”

“Where is what, mate?” The smug look Neal gave him invalidated his words. Neal was toying with him just as he had the past few months, but now he’d gone too far. Neal must have seen the killing intent as he slid out of the way of the next strike and scrambled out the door.

The next several moments were a blur. Jean remembered chasing Neal down the hallway screaming obscenities. Neal slipped and slid across the old brick floor as he scrambled away, but something was off. Neal wasn’t scared. his face was plastered with a toothy grin as he darted around corners and slowed down just to dodge out of his grasp at the last moment. Jean focused on Neal’s movement and sent him yelping when one of his swipes made contact but it wasn't enough to catch the slithery creep. 

Jean carefully calculated Neal’s next move. Neal had to slow down on the cobblestone when making sharp turns and there was a corner fast approaching. When they came up around the corner he got ready to pounce. Neal had to slow down almost to a complete stop to avoid sliding into the wall. Jean grit his teeth, ready to sink his claws into his prey. Using the wall to catch his footing he propelled himself hard where neal would be.

The impact was hard and sent both of them to the ground, but as he took in his surroundings he could see Neal staring wide eyed, elated at the situation that had unfolded in front of him. 

In his haste to catch Neal, Jean had tackled the wrong person. 

An appalled shriek left Countess Cleo as she was sent tumbling backwards onto the cobblestone with Jean landing ungracefully on top. Jean Scrambled off as soon as he could, split between chasing down Neal or facing the storm he’d just caused. With unanticipated strength Cleo grabbed firmly onto Jean’s shoulder, sharp nails piercing through her formal gloves. Neal snickered at the sight but with the precision of a snake, Cleo struck out grabbing him by the collar of his suit. If Jean wasn't in the same predicament he would have laughed at the look that spread across Neal’s face.

Jean didn't retaliate as Cleo dragged them through the base to the Faculty table, retrieving snickers and weary glances from the other agents they passed. The other Faculty members weren't paying attention when the door originally opened up, until the clicking of angry footsteps entered the room. The Members seemed a bit surprised with the intrusion, but with one look from the enraged Countess they came to full attention.

“Hello Countess, I’ll assume that if you're willing to skip your appointment, then it must be quite serious.” Professor Maelstrom seemed rather amused at his colleague’s disheveled state but his attention turned back onto the two operatives in front of them. “I figured we’d be seeing you soon, but really? You haven't even been back for ten minutes and you two are already causing issues.” Maelstrom tutted but had a knowing smirk cross his face. It wasn't out of character for him to mess with them when they were students and it wouldn't be any different as operatives. 

Countess Cleo took her seat, not so discreetly wiping her glove free from whatever had been on Neal’s suit. As the other members of the faculty waited for Cleo to be seated, Jean noted a large tear down the side of the dress. Glancing back he could see Neal shuffling in place not far from him, as well as the Cleaners waiting by the main door.

“I do not appreciate your careless and reckless behavior.” The Countess huffed as she joined the other faculty. Neal snorted somewhere behind Jean and Countess Cleo glared him down with daggers in her eyes. Jean-Paul was just relieved that he wasn't in the hot seat alone.

“I wonder what exactly they did to warrant such a response.” Professor Maelstrom pressed his colleague for answers. Cleo huffed, looking uncomfortable. 

“Those two were dashing through the halls, knocked me down, and made an absolute mess of my wardrobe.” Cleo gestured to the sizable tear spreading from a seam to the elaborate embroidering that in all probability cost more than he made his entire career at VILE. 

“Well?” Coach Brunt looked down at the two vile agents. She continued when it became obvious the two didn’t understand where she was getting at. “Speak up! What could’ve been so important that you plow over a Faculty member.” The Coach's eyes focused on Neal as he let out a snicker. “Neal, did you have something to say?”

Jean could feel a chill creep over him, followed by the sense of impending doom. He kept his expression as neutral as possible, but the look Maelstrom was giving could crumble his facade. Fight or flight took over his body but he forced himself to remain in place. 

Neal had all the ammunition he needed to ruin his life and wasn't one to blackmail. If Neal could use that information to escape his impending punishment he’d do it. It took everything he could manage to look back at the other agent and still keep up the illusion he wanted to present.

Shrugging his shoulders Neal bent down and pulled out something from his boot. It would have been comical seeing Neal pull what looked like a knife, but with Jean on high defence it shocked him for a moment. It took a second for Jean to place the item but he knew he recognised it. It was the lockpick disguised as a letter opener that Jean and his classmates earned when they passed Cleo’s exam. That letter opener had been in the safe that Jean had in his closet. 

One of the cleaners swiped the letter opener from Neal’s grip and placed it on the faculty table. Maelstrom only glanced at it a moment before returning his gaze back upon the two. Cleo perked up at the familiar trinket. 

“I remember that. I gave them out to students that passed my final exam.” Cleo glared over at Neal. “But if I recall correctly I didn't give one to you. No, you received a pocket book. ‘Mr. Mannered, Proper Ways of Public Presentation.’” Neal mumbled something under his breath at the reminder. Cleo Glanced back down to the Letter opener. “Le Chèvre, You’ve kept this in remarkable condition. I’ll be honest, I'm quite flattered that you would go to such an extent to retrieve this.” Even though Jean felt relieved there was still panic in the back of his mind. Either Neal was lying or someone else had taken the gloves. Before Jean’s mind could wander onto the possibilities he was snapped back into reality by the blunt voice of Coach Brunt.

“Well Neal, do you have anything you’d like to say for yourself?” All eyes were on Neal who didn't even seem phased.

“It was just a joke.” Neal said it in such a nonplused tone, like he was reciting a simple fact.

“You're a joke!” Jean spat, earning a scathing look from Neal.

Coach brunt rose from her seat, bringing all attention back to her. Jean could hear Neal gulp at her looming presence. “You two can’t go about horse-playing like this. You aren’t students anymore and issues like this won’t be handled the way they used to.” 

“Really now, I think Le Chèvre had a valid reason to behave as he did to Neal.” Cleo seemed to focus her disdain solely on Neal who looked almost offended.

“Well surprise princess, they were caught and there's consequences for that. Maybe not as severe as if they were caught by the police, but we are the law and order at this rodeo. ” Coach Brunt wasn't impressed by Cleo’s change of heart. “You will be placed on probation until further notice.”

“What!?” Neal spouted, looking at the faculty members seeming to understand the severity of the situation. “What did I do wrong? He’s the one who overreacted.” Jean pulled a face when Neal pointed at him.

“Honestly, we couldn't care less for the squabbles between members. It's to be expected, really.” Coach Brunt crossed her arms and leaned back in her chair. “However, you were sloppy and managed to get caught. Might I remind you that stealing VILE issued property is a strict violation.”

“Well I wouldn’t say that your letter opener is held in the same regards as a crackle rod or laser pen.” Dr. Bellum spoke up for the first time after focusing on her tablet. “Perhaps we should deesculat this and write it off as horseplay.” 

“This crossed the line of horse play when they ruined the embroidering on this dress.” Cleo piped up, remembering her current fashion situation. Jean wished he could crawl under a rock as the squabbles continued.

“Couldn't you just have your assistant fix it.” Coach brunt pinched the bridge of her nose trying to keep her incoming headache at bay.

“I wouldn’t expect you to understand the keen eyes of the company I keep at these parties. One wrong stitch and I'll be a laughing stock.”

“Ladies, lets keep this civil. We should be an example to our-”. Maelstrom attempted to get a hold on the oncoming disaster but was drowned out by his colleagues.

“EXCUSE ME your highness, It's not like you don't have literal ROOMS full of dresses you've only worn once.” And just like that, the squabbles drowned out all remnants of order, leaving the two agents standing there. All things considered, it could be worse. 

“You boys are dismissed. We’ll arrange your probation requirement sometime tomorrow. As for now considered this confiscated.” Maelstrom gestured to the elaborate letter opener whilst keeping eye contact with him. 

Jean could see a flash of something in Maelstrom’s gaze but it was gone before he could comprehend what it was. Neal slipped out as soon as he was dismissed and Jean followed shortly after. He didn’t want to overstay his welcome and slipped out past the cleaners. He wasn’t heading back to his room though. 

If Neal knew about Antonio’s gloves or the bag he would have squealed to the faculty. Jean was sure that he’d be thrown under the figurative bus just to misdirect blame but that just left one more big question. 

Where was the bag? Jean didn't have to think long, after all there was only one other person who would've known about the bag. 

~~~

Jean stopped just outside of Sheena’s room. He hadn't been there since his breakdown a few months back and had avoided it like the plague's sense, but his determination overrode the feelings and he barged inside.

Surprisingly, Sheena’s room was unlocked and empty of anyone, but Jean wasn’t going to wait for her to return. He wasted no time before storming over to her closet. Sure enough there sitting in the back was the familiar duffle. He opened the bag to reassure himself and only let out a relieved sigh when he found what he was looking for. 

“There you are!” Sheena’s shrill voice echoed in the small room as she closed the door behind her. “What happened? Why was princess prissy dragging you down the hall like that?” Jean shriveled at the thought of how many people saw that display earlier but he wasn’t going to let that distract him.

“She was dragging me down the hall because I was trying to strangle Neal.”

“Wow. In all honesty, I would have pulled up a chair and watched.” Jean would have chuckled if his adrenaline wasn’t so high. “What did he do this time?” Jean’s gaze shifted back to her as she fully took in the situation. Sheena looked at Jean’s white knuckled grasp on the duffle.

“I thought he stole this.” The tension alongside the silence made for an uncomfortable atmosphere. 

“Look, I didn’t take them to start a fight.” Sheena fumbled over her words and Jean didn’t respond. “Give me a break. If I didn’t take them, you know Neal would’ve. I’m just trying to help.” Sheena was uncomfortable with the tension but he believed what she said.

Jean zipped the bag up with a sigh. It worked out to his advantage but it still didn’t make sense. 

“Why?” Jean stood up earning a raised brow from Sheena “Why did you take them?”

“I wanted to drop something off for you, but I ran into Neal.” Disgust saturated Neal’s name and Jean held back a chuckle. “And you were right.” Jean arched a brow on what she was trying to convey.

“Right about what?” Jean was worried, but was quickly put at ease with her following words.

“The bait and switch. Neal was so focused on what was in that locked box he didn’t even look at the bag.” Sheena chuckled. “You should have seen the look on his face when I walked in. He dropped that box right on his foot.” The humor was lost on him. All he could think of was how close Neal was to discovering the gloves.

“...Merci beaucoup.” Sheena didn’t react, instead spacing out in deep thought. Jean was thankful for that. He had been torn out of his carefully constructed comfort zone and was thrown back into the chaos. Now his one safe space was tainted and with Neal’s presence as his roommate it made his predicament with the gloves his new priority.

“Wow, I expected you to blow up at me. Are you sure you’re ok?” Sheena stood by as Jean nodded his head. She didn’t seem all that convinced but continued. “So what are you going to do now?” Sheena turned to face Jean. “Are you really going to room with him?”

“I don’t really have a choice. The Faculty had officiel papers and everything.” He really didn't want to bring it up with the faculty in his current circumstance.

“That’s rough.” Sheena thought for a moment trying to come up with a solution. “How about you switch with someone.” Jean gave a sour look. He’d already thought about that and knew right away why that wouldn't work out. 

“No one in their right mind would possibly switch with me. I’m better off just sleeping outside.” The dramatics of it all were exaggerated but he truly did not want any part in being roommates with Neal.

“Why don’t you just move in here?” Sheena’s suggestion caught him off guard. Everyone knew that her room was the smallest in the base, mainly because she wouldn't shut up about it when they moved in. It did however come with the added bonus of never having to share her room.

“You know I can’t do that. Your room is already one of the smallest” There were other reasons that Jean should have protested about but out of everyone in the base she was the only person he trusted.

“Yeah, don’t remind me, but it’s still better than sleeping outside. And as a bonus, you can hide your stuff in here.” Sheena pointed at her closet. It was a safer option but Jean had to return back to reality. 

“Even if I wanted to, I doubt they’d let me move in here.” Jean didn't want to bring up the subject to the faculty, not after the fiasco that just went down. 

“Maybe not officially but I know for a fact that VILE agents don’t follow the rules.” Sheena cocked a brow with a victorious smirk. What Vile didn't know wouldn't hurt them and more importantly wouldn't hurt Jean. Sheena was truly the only person he trusted and she’d never done anything to break that trust.

“Maybe.”

“Look on the bright side. With the way missions cross over we might not share a room that often.” Sheena was right. The likelihood of them sharing a room every night would have been too much to handle. 

“Can I ask you a favor?” Sheena looked back at him, intrigued by what he had to say. “Can I keep this in here for now. Nothing permanent but just to keep them out of sight until I figure something else out.”

“Like you have to ask.” Sheena threw a halfhearted punch to his chest. “Come on, I’ll scare the vermin from your room and you can grab some of your stuff.”

Jean had a hard time showing appreciation, especially after Antonio’s decommissioning, but if Sheena was willing to do so much for him, then he could try. 

Watching Sheena work her magic was quite the sight. Neal scrambled down the hall with true fear in his eyes. Jean took note on how Neal avoided her attacks but he still ended up with some tears in his suit. Sheena looked as though she was having fun toying with her prey as Jean gathered up a few more belongings.


	4. Chapter 4

Probation would've been better if he wasn’t forced to work alongside Neal. It would've been better if he didn’t have to work alongside anyone to be honest. Instead he and Neal became glorified test dummies for the faculties classes. When they weren’t being used for target practice or to run errands they were stand-ins for “guard duty”. Despite its title, it didn't involve anything substantial. They played the part as security guards as the students attempted to steal things without being caught. Originally another student from the class would play ‘guard’ but with the dwindling number of applicants it seemed that they needed a few stand in’s. 

During mock trials the recruits didn’t hold back. They were taught the skills and told the golden rule, but it seemed to be up for interpretation for some. Some were all too eager to show what they could do and Jean knew who would pass and who would fail just by observing their techniques. The bold were more likely to fail than pass as they were easily caught” and the students that went straight for attacks would also be sidelined. 

His punishment did have the added benefit of teaching him what not to do. Jean doubted that it was intentional but he picked up skills as he went. In a way he learned more about close hand combat than he did when he was a student. It made the overall experience tolerable.

Something Jean couldn't tolerate was when some of the students would be cocky outside of class. He caught wind of them claiming to be better than previous students and how they had taken out the goat and eel. Reminding them that Jean’s role was to act as a guard and not as a capable VILE agent did little to nothing for their claims. 

One punk attempting to show off what they learned in class ended up thrown across the cafeteria when Jean had enough. 

Coach Brunt laughed when she found out, telling the sorry sap about the “no teacher, no punishment” policy for petty stuff like that. Most students gave him a wide berth after that incident and an even wider one whenever Sheena was around.

When Sheena was back at headquarters she’d hunt him down and force them to hang out. She became even more tenacious after Jean became her unofficial roomie. He didn't mind as much as he probably should’ve, but sometimes he felt like she was babysitting him. When she wasn’t attempting to hover over him, she was asking questions and trying to start up conversations. Having a bitching session was always welcomed but he seared clear of anything personal. 

Even though they were on good terms he made sure to keep conversations with her short before they could go too deep. There’d been some recent incidents where he felt backed into a corner and took off without a word. He knew it wasn't cool to just take off but she couldn't seem to take the hint that he didn't want to talk about Antonio.

After El Topo’s decommissioning Antonio wasn't brought up. The only two who seemed to actually acknowledge it were Sheena and Neal, be it in two completely different ways. Neal forced the subject about how he’d be a better teammate once they were off of probation. Jean couldn't tell if it was a jest or not but he didn't allow Neal to think even for a second that being teammates was in the foreseeable future. However, Sheena was a whole other issue. 

She’d been going on about how he needed to talk about it, but the moment Jean spoke poorly of the faculty she’d backpettle. It’d been so hard trying to figure out what she did and didn't want to hear. The thought crossed his mind that she may just want to know about the drama and not how Jean really felt, so in the end he’d dropped the subject all together. Any attempt to bring up the issue was met with silence. Recently when she’d received the silent treatment she'd leave him alone for a bit and come walking back in after an hour or so. Jean was curious but he didn't ask where she wandered off too.

It felt like a luxury to have some time alone for himself with how pushy she’d been. Jean was in the middle of one of his moments alone when he heard the doorknob jiggling followed by muffled cursing. He’d just shoved the gloves in the back of Sheena’s closet when the person behind the door swallowed their pride and knocked. Sheena was due back any time now, but she knew that he barricaded himself in the room and always knocked first. Jean freed the chair that was keeping the outside world at bay and opened the door. 

“Aw, I thought I’d find you in here.” Neal stood far to close for Jean’s liking, not so discreetly taking in the room behind him. 

“What do you want?” Jean was hoping Neal wouldn’t figure out where he was staying, but it wouldn't take a genius to figure out where he may have been hiding.

“Just wanted to drop this off, wouldn't want you missing your appointment,” Neal unzipped his suit enough to pull out a letter handing it to Jean-Paul. His nose crinkled when he plucked it out of the creep’s hand. It was damp with sweat and Jean almost gagged. He didn't want to open it until it dried out or he’d grabbed some gloves.

“Appointment?”

“Yep, read it and weep.” Neal said smugly, waiting for his reaction.

“I'm not opening it, It feels like you went swimming with it.” “Jean held the letter out from Neal’s reach but also made no attempt to open it. “Just tell me what it is.” Neal seemed satisfied and finally elaborated.

“Well believe it or not were both done with probation! Almost…” Neal created a pause for dramatic effect but when he failed to get a rise out of Jean he continued. “Fine, we each have an interview before we can be released on active duty.”

“An interview?”

“Yes! Man these small rooms must really like to echo.” Neal was trying to push his buttons but Jean kept his reactions controlled.

“Huh, I would’ve expected you to make sure I’d miss it. What? Are you bored of getting me in trouble.” Jean asked in a sarcastic manner but Neal loved having the last word.

“Can’t a mannered man such as myself do one good thing out of the kindness of his heart, without being interrogated?” Neal pouted before letting out a snorting laugh. “Ah haha, I'm joking with you. I actually don't mind having a room to myself, if you didn't show up they'd probably come hunting you down and dragging you back to your room. Although~ I like the setup you have in here. So, are you two sharing that bed?” The door hit Neal in the face as Jean focused on the letter. Neal kicked the door in frustration before wondering away back down the hall.

Jean finally peeled apart the folded letter to figure out what had Neal so giddy. He swallowed when he read the letter over twice just to make sure he was reading it right. 

Jean had an appointment with the last person he wanted to talk to.

~~~

By the time Sheena finally got back from her mission, Jean was muttering to himself attempting to keep his expression calm as he focused on the mirror. Sheena didn't seem to notice as she went right off on a tangent. 

“I swear they need some more agents back on the field. I get one day off and then I'm sent right back out again.” Sheena turned her attention to Jean-Paul after she received no response. Jean pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration as he continued to practice his neutral face. “Uh, Hello? Earth to Goat, what are you doing?”

“I'm trying to practice.” Jean sighed as his attention was turned back to the paper. “This is cruel and unusual.” Sheena attempted to look over his shoulder.

“What's up?” Sheena picked up the letter on the desk, immediately dropping it. “WHY IS THIS WET!?” Jean rolled his eyes at her antics. 

“I have an appointment with Professor maelstrom.” Jean wasn’t pouting but he was close. Sheena wiped her hand off on her pants leg before reading over the letter.

“So wait. Are you going to be helping Professor Maelstrom in class?” Sheena poked at the paper trying to read the smudged typing.

“No. It’s an evaluation.” Jean cursed to himself. He was worried about what could be brought up. Jean tried not to have his performance slip but his attitude towards the agents he was paired up with was suboptimal. 

“Isn’t Coach Brunt the one who handles these kinds of things?” Sheena shifted side to side, clearly uncomfortable about something.

“She’s probably too busy throwing students around.” Jean expected a laugh but Sheena still looked put off.

“So why are you practicing in the mirror? You have a pretty solid resting bitch face.”

“Maelstrom is doing the evaluation. Do I really need to remind you what he did when we were in class.” 

“So what? You're worried that he’ll hand you a suitcase full of chum?

“No! Maelstrom is a psychiatrist who enjoys bending people to the brink of insanity. If I say one wrong word he’ll snowball it into-” Sheena cut him off before he could get too worked up.

“If you act like you have something to hide, it's only going to be worse.” 

“Yeah, I know.” Jean took in a deep breath and looked back into the mirror. Did his face always turn red when he was stressed? With a few more breaths he was able to cool down and snap himself back into a presentable state.

“Maybe you can talk to him about what’s bugging you.” The suggestion through Jean off guard and sent him spluttering.

“Is that supposed to be a joke? Who in their right mind would ask Maelstrom for advice?” Jean looked at her like she'd grown a second head. She couldn't really be suggesting that to him, even as a joke it would be distasteful. “He’s criminally insane. Anyone would be a fool to trust him.” A tense silence filled the air, just as it had whenever Jean said anything bad about the faculty. Could she really not admit that the Faculty made poor decisions. 

Sheena muttered something under her breath, but Jean failed to catch it. That didn't matter to him now. Jean didn’t want to end up in hot water for skipping. Jean left the letter on the desk and left the room without another word. The last thing he needed was to be worked up before he even made his appointment.

Maelstrom’s could read expressions and body language, but not minds. All Jean-Paul had to do was stay cool and collected without being forced. If he could handle Neal he could handle this.

~~~

The Cleaners were waiting outside of Maelstrom’s office by the time he arrived. It was hard to tell time with the artificial light and the gloomy weather outside. Even as he walked through the door it took a moment to completely take in the room. Maelstrom’s office was even more intimidating than the one on Vile Isle. The aged castle warped the surrounding light and made every sound echo. His eyes landed on Maelstrom who was sitting in front of his floor to ceiling fish tank that reflected a glowing green hue. Jean focused on his face. 

Unreadable. 

He completely mastered the skill and showed no sign of emotion as he flipped through his folders. Jean approached, forcing himself to relax even if he wanted nothing more than to flee. 

“Le Chèvre, Please have a seat.” Maelstrom gestured to a chair that was placed adjacent to the fish tank. Jean did as he was told and took his seat, waiting for what was to come. “As you know this is an evaluation for your performance over the past several months. I’m sure you are aware that there have been complaints about you, but your scores in the field show that you out perform most of your assigned teammates. ” Maelstrom flipped through his paperwork at a maddening slow pace. Jean knew not to complain. “You’ve seemed to work well with only a few of your other comrades. One of course being Tigress and the other would be Neal the Eel.” Jean couldn’t help himself but show the slightest amount of displeasure at the mention of Neal. 

“I work well with Tigress, not with Neal.” Jean didn’t hesitate to let his disdain for Neal be known. 

“And yet, whenever you’re paired up with him you two finish your mission in record time.” Maelstrom made a bit of a show flipping through the paperwork as Jean sat still. “But that’s not the reasoning behind this meeting, I've already made up my mind on the matter.” Jean cocked an eyebrow at the statement. “Oh yes. You and Neal will become the new dream team duo. We’re expecting a lot from the two of you.” 

“You can’t just make us permanent teammates.” Jean raised his voice at the suggestion. It was bad enough that he had to share a room with him but this was just cruel. 

“Like I said before that’s already been decided. I would watch your tone when you're in the presence of faculty.” Maelstrom shifted his eyes over to the entrance at the cleaners and Jean took in a controlled breath. “But what I truly want to talk about is what you’re hiding in your closet.” 

Jean froze up. He did his best to stay neutral on the outside but something in his eyes must have caught Maelstrom’s attention. The Professor’s smirk sent Jean’s skin crawling. 

Several thoughts raced across his mind. Did the faculty know about him stealing from the incinerator? What if Sheena was wrong and Neal had found the gloves. Perhaps if he explained himself- 

Then Jean remembered, Maelstrom liked to toss out information like a fisherman chumming the water. Jean was being baited to say something incriminating, but he caught himself. He wouldn’t be surprised if Maelstrom was telling lies and making assumptions, he was after all criminally insane. Jean decided to play off his momentary silence as confusion. 

“My closet?” Jean put on his most convincing tone. The corner of Maelstrom’s smirk withered for only a second. 

Maelstrom tutted. “Yes it’s part of an American idiom. ‘Hiding a skeleton in the closet”. I believe it speaks for itself, but it may not have translated over for you.” Maelstrom may have just insulted his intelligence but he seemed to revel in explaining morbid idioms. “To imply that someone has a skeleton in the closet, means that someone is hiding something they don’t want others to know about. That is to say, I don’t believe that all this frustration you’re feeling is caused by Neal alone. So tell me, what is it that’s truly bothering you?” The question was innocent enough but the person asking was far from being ‘well intentioned’. 

“You underestimate how much I don’t want to work with Neal sir.” Jean focused on portraying frustration towards the name.

“So it would seem…” Maelstrom paused seeming to take in the information. “Well then that poses a bit of a problem, because I’m not changing my mind on the matter.” Maelstrom’s smirk dropped to a forced smile. “Well then, Le Chèvre. There’s only one more thing to take care of.”

Jean froze as Maelstrom reached into his blazer. For a moment the world stood still. The glint of something metallic sent his fight or flight into overdrive, but he couldn't force himself to move. He didn't even take in another breath until it was fully unsheathed. Maelstrom held a letter opener out to him balancing on the tip of his finger, handle facing Jean. It was the tacky gold plated one Cleo had given him. It was also the same one that Neal had stolen. Now it was presented to him. 

Jean didn’t care for it, It held little sentimental value and only held value as a lockpick. Maelstrom balanced it on his finger waiting for something. After zero reaction the professor let it drop to the ground. 

Jean was hesitant to pick it up. Was this a trap?

“For someone who was willing to tackle a faculty member for this you don’t seem too attached.” Maelstrom smiled to himself as Jean sat there. “Pick it up, you’ll need it.” In Maelstrom's other hand he held two envelopes. Maelstrom took one of the envelopes and ripped it in half before putting it back in his blazer. Jean was confused by this but brushed it off as the eccentrics of a mad man. “I believe that you need some time to cool down. Luckily for you there’s a mission that’s right up your alley.”

Jean hesitantly picked the letter opener off the ground and carefully used it to open the envelope. Inside were the details to an upcoming mission, but instead of being the daring missions that involved high payouts he was instead issued underlings work. It was when he looked at who would be joining him that he realized just how low he’d fallen. 

Moose and Otterman were nothing special when it came to VILE’s operations. Ottoerman could barely pass the physical exams and Moose seemed to just be useful for his strength. Jean's expression must have said it all. 

“In three days time you’ll be doing inventory in our safe house in the Swiss Alps. You shouldn’t be there for more than a week and once you return you’ll be assigned with Neal for the foreseeable future.” 

There wasn’t any point in arguing but he truly didn’t want any part in this any more. Maelstrom rose from his seat, eyes filled with unspoken humor, like someone waiting to tell the punchline of a joke. Jean didn’t want to hear whatever he had to say and instead stood up to leave. He’d just about made it halfway to the door before the professor interrupted one last time. 

“If you want to speak to me, stop by during my office hours.” Jean wasn’t interested and only half listened until Maelstrom said something that made him stop dead in his tracks. “Talking has really helped your roommate, Tigress. I'm sure that in time you’ll do what’s expected of you.” It felt like the rug was pulled out from under him. Sheena wouldn’t have told Professor Maelstrom anything videl, would she? Maelstrom lifted his hand and shooed him away like a child. “That is all, Le Chèvre.”

The Cleaners finally stepped aside, allowing Jean to leave. If Maelstrom noticed that Jean left even quicker he didn't say anything, instead writing something on his clipboard and smiling to himself. 

~~~~

Jean walked back into his shared room finding Sheena doing maintenance on her own VILE issued gloves. 

“Hey just to let you know I'm heading out tomorrow on another mission.” Sheena spoke up before feeling the shift in the room. The unease in the air could be cut with the letter opener in his hand, but Jean didn’t say a word. Sheena took her attention off of what she was doing to look at him

“Hey, what’s up?” Jean ignored her as he gathered his stuff up off the floor from his temporary corner of the room. He briskly walked to the closet pulling out the last of his things. “Um, hello~?” Sheena was annoyed at being so blatantly ignored and walked into his personal space. 

“STAY AWAY FROM ME.” Jean shot back around, towering over her. The feelings of betrayal cut deep and he did all he could to restrain himself. 

“Woah, hold on, what’s got you tied up in a knot?” Sheena didn’t back down but she did seem concerned. 

“Why don’t you ask Maelstrom. You’ve already talked to him about me.” Jean spat out the words with so much disgust that Sheena was taken aback. It took only a moment for her eyes to widen in understanding. The amount of guilt in her eyes said everything that Jean needed to hear. He went over to her closet where he hid his most prized possession and forcefully removed the bag. 

“Look it’s not what you think. I didn’t tell him anything about this.” Sheena gestured to the duffle bag in Jean’s hands. Jean yanked it away from her reach and checked its contents. Antonio’s gloves and keychain were still in the bag. Sheena passed back and forth from one side of the room to another. She had been thoroughly caught off guard and offered no further explanation.

“Does that matter? If he’s suspicious he could send the Cleaners in here and they’d find this. Do you have any idea how screwed I am if they find out?!” Jean watch Sheena tense up as she stopped

“I’m going to say something and you’re not going to like it.” Jean waited for an explanation or anything that could somehow restore his faith in her. She couldn't even look him in the eyes when she finally spoke. “You should put them back in the incinerator.” Jean stopped and stared at the person he’d thought of as a friend. He thought that she understood his struggles and how important this was to him, but the person standing in front of him seemed like an entirely different person. Sheena continued even as Jean's face shifted into that of disdain. “It's not healthy to hold onto this. If you bury it under some of the other trash, no one will know.” Sheena turned to face him as she reached out for the bag. 

“Shut up. You’re nothing but a snake. You know that.” Jean slapped her hand away so hard that it bounced back into her desk. Her eyes filled with rage and she slapped him back harder, sending some of his things to the ground. That didn't matter to him as he held on tightly to the duffle.

“Oh I’m a snake. The real snake here is you.” Sheeans face turned red and she was a few dismals away from causing permanent damage to his hearing. “You’ve been so focused on moping around and pushing everyone away. You're not going to bring back Blacksheep!” Silence fell as confusion entered his mind. Did he hear her correctly?

“Blacksheep?” Jean repeated. Sheena seemed to catch her blunder.

“No, I mean Antonio.” Sheena took in a deep breath trying to compose herself as everything fell apart. 

“Look, I don't want what happened to gray to happen to you.” Jean snapped, tightening the hold on his things before stepping forward.

“Oh, so you're only doing this because you feel guilty for what happened to crackle?” Sheena’s face said it all as Jean fully understood what was happening. Jean was Sheena’s replacement for Gram. She’d taken advantage of his poor mental state and used him.

“It's not like that, besides it's not like you acted any better.” Sheena puttered out. She’d been caught in a lie and was grasping at straws. Jean turned his attention to the door and started to leave. Sheena grabbed a hold of his shirt, receiving a sharp shove off of him.

“I don’t need advice from someone who doesn’t know how to make friends. If it wasn’t for VILE we wouldn’t even be friends. I am not your replacement for Gram, and you're not even close to being a replacement for Antonio.” The silence between them was deafening. He wasn’t sure what to do with himself but he couldn’t depend on her anymore. “I don’t have time for this. I have a mission in three days that doesn’t involve you or that Eel.”

With those words Jean walked out of the room, wanting to stay as far from her as possible. Sheena didn't reach out cementing the betrayal for him. She wasn't who he thought she was. Jean didn't care about her right now, he didn’t care about anything at that moment. All he wanted to do was release the pressure building up under his skin. And so he kept walking, not knowing where he was going.

He felt so stupid to trust anyone, they were all VILE agents in the end. It wasn’t even uncommon for them to step on others just to climb the ranks. And now Jean stood in the hallway alone. 

What was the point? He didn't have anything left for him here. 

The only reason he stayed was for the thrill but even that was gone. He didn't want any of this anymore. That was when he knew that there was nothing left for him here, but instead of sadness he only felt anger. There were only three ways out of VILE but only one could give him what he wanted. He wouldn’t let VILE erase his memories. He wasn't going to let them tell him what he should and should not do. Looking down at his hand he noticed that he still had a grip on the letter and letter opener from Maelstrom.

It’s then the plan began to form in his head and he knew what he had to do. There was just one more thing he had to take care of before then.

~~~

Jean swung open the door to what used to be his room. Neal shot up from Antonio’s old cot. 

“Well hello Roomie, are you here to drag some more of your stuff to the Cat Cave? Jean’s bed had become a pile of gadgets and trinkets that were immediately pushed onto the floor. “What was that for?!” Neal was up out of bed as Jean finished chucking the rest of the stuff off his bed. “Do you know how long it took me to sort that stuff?! Unlike you, I~ have a mission tomorrow.”

“If you didn’t want it on the floor, you shouldn’t have put it on my bed.” Jean tossed his duffle carelessly on the bed after pulling some blankets out of the closet. There was no way that Jean was going to sleep there when he didn't know what had been on his bed over the past month.

“Your bed? You haven’t been in here for weeks-“ Neal stopped when he caught sight of the letter opener in Jeans grasp. With a swift movement Jean embedded it into the bedside table sending Neal scrabbling away from him. Apparently he got the message. Jean sat down on the edge of his bed leaning towards Neal.

“This was my room first.” With that Jean took off his shoes and pulled out his sleepwear, shooting another glare at Neal. Neal busied himself by picking up his stuff.

“Well I see that pussy cat’s personality is rubbing off on you.” Neal muttered under his breath, scrapping all his trinkets into a pile. “I'm not gonna look. Honest.” Jean kicked a bottle of something back over to Neal's side of the room before changing.

“Stay on your side of the room.” Jean shot a death glare back at Neal. Begrudgingly, Neal sulked back to his part of the room as he muttered absentees under his breath. Jean moved his bag between him and the wall. He didn't even bother barricading the door, doing so would only trap him inside with Neal, but from the sound of things he wouldn’t have to deal with him for long. Neal had a mission tomorrow giving him two days to properly plan his last caper.

In Hindsight, Jean had made up his mind the day Antonio was gone. Le Chèvre left VILE when El Topo was decommissioned, everything after was purely Jean-Paul. It was just hard to admit it to himself. He was so scared of losing his memories that he dismissed running away as a fantasy, but all that fear was now anger and there was nothing holding him back. Running away wasn’t going to bring Antonio back, but neither was staying with the people who threw him out like trash. One of the few things that gave him solace was that, if everything went according to plan, he’d be able to hurt VILE on the way out.


End file.
